


Let It Snow!

by dwindlingdichotomy (Saskam98)



Series: Seasons [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Light Angst, M/M, Popcorn, Snow, post-Winter Soldier!Bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 06:50:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5530001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saskam98/pseuds/dwindlingdichotomy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little winter story based on the Christmas song Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Because I love Christmas and Super Soldiers.</p><p>Dedicated to two very lovely ladies - <a href="http://dorlgirl.tumblr.com">dorlgirl</a> and <a href="http://captainbeardburn.tumblr.com">captainbeardburn</a>. Thank you for the encouragement and support and the friendship. I wouldn't have posted without you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let It Snow!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [loonietuna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/loonietuna/gifts), [dorlgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorlgirl/gifts).



> _Oh, the weather outside is frightful,_  
>  _But the fire is so delightful._  
>  _And since we've no place to go,_  
>  _Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!_  
>  -Original Song and Lyrics by Sammy Cahn and Jule Styne

**1.**  
_Oh, the weather outside is frightful -_

“It’s open,” Steve called from the kitchen, hearing the knock on the door. He poked his head around the corner as Bucky walked into his apartment, and immediately chuckled at the sight. “That’s a good look for you.”

Bucky glanced up while stomping his boots on the doormat and otherwise shaking the remnants of melting snow out of his hair. “Winter Soldier, my ass,” he grumbled. “It’s fucking freezing out there.”

Steve burst out laughing. Guffawed really, his blue eyes sparkling. The joke took him by surprise, but it was a good sign. A great sign actually. Bucky was improving all the time. Maybe not daily, and definitely not without setbacks, but if he could make a joke like that at his own expense, Steve wouldn’t analyze it too much.

**2.**  
_But the fire is so delightful -_

“Well, go warm up. I built a fire.” He nodded his head toward the living room of the apartment.

Bucky moved in the same direction, as if being beckoned by a siren’s call. “No shit,” he murmured. “I didn’t know the fireplace actually worked.”

Steve laughed again. “Modern conveniences,” he deadpanned. “Increases property values.”

“We would’ve killed for a working fireplace in that old rat trap we shared. Remember, Stevie?” Bucky’s mouth quirked up into a wry grin as he passed Steve in the hall.

And just like that, Steve felt another small piece of his fractured heart slide into its rightful place. Bucky’s memories of _before_ (before Hydra) had come back sporadically, but he’d let Steve know he figured he had most of it pieced together now. Bringing them up in casual conversation, however, was another matter entirely. Sometimes he couldn’t talk about things. The war, especially, was hit or miss, depending on the day and the memory. Even some things of their life together before either of them were soldiers. Steve knew it wasn’t necessarily because the memories were bad. It was because they reminded Bucky too much of who he used to be - who _they_ used to be - before the world had gotten all fucked up, they’d lost each other, and seventy years had gone by in the blink of an eye.

Reaching the fireplace, Bucky promptly collapsed to floor in front of it and stuck his hands out to the flames. He looked back at Steve in pure bliss then his contented smile fell away. “Stevie,” he whispered, seeing the warmth and emotion filling the blonde’s cornflower eyes, the hopeful raise of his brow, the softness of his slightly parted lips. “Knock it off, you sap,” he admonished, the burr in his voice belying the snappish words.

Their gazes locked momentarily, the shared recollection a woven cord connecting them to each other in spite of the intervening years and the mystifying circumstances of their lives. Steve felt the prick of tears behind his eyes, the tightening of his throat. Bucky talking about their past was normal, or should be anyway. Steve dissolving into a sobbing, emotional wreck over it was not. If Bucky could be casual and _normal_ about it, Steve owed it to him not to respond with hysterics. 

He gave Bucky a small smile before clearing his throat and valiantly clambering for more solid ground.

Another beat passed and then Bucky quipped, “You made popcorn, right? Tell me you made popcorn so I don’t have to kick your ass. Can’t watch a movie without popcorn, punk.”

“Jerk.” Steve grinned. “Coming right up, _Sergeant_.”

**3.**  
_And since we've no place to go -_

“So, what horrible pop culture ridiculousness are you subjecting us to today?” Bucky asked, throwing himself on the sofa in mock dismay.

“You better watch it or else I’ll kick you back out into the cold,” Steve warned from the other end of the couch. He yanked the bowl of popcorn away just as Bucky dove for it. 

Shooting him a glare through the curtain of his hair, Bucky whined.

“Use your words, Buck.” Steve instructed patiently, trying hard not to smirk.

Bucky huffed, the air ruffling the long strands of hair falling into his eyes. He also may have quietly growled before relenting. “Please?”

Steve beamed triumphantly before lowering the bowl of popcorn back to his lap. It took approximately zero point two seconds for Bucky to shove a hand into the bowl and come back with a massive pile of buttery, salty goodness cradled possessively to his chest. He pushed himself back into a sitting position with his metal arm.

“How’s the arm?” Steve asked, tracking his movements for any sign of distress.

“Good,” Bucky replied around a mouth full of popcorn. “Tony’s been checking it regularly, doing maintenance when needed.” He stuffed more popcorn into his mouth as he talked. Manners of a five year old, Steve thought. “He’s talking about some modifications too, if I want.”

Of course, Steve knew all this, as he kept constant tabs on Bucky, regardless of Tony’s protests of violating his trumped up genius-patient confidentiality agreement. To which Steve rolled his eyes and politely but firmly insisted he be kept informed of anything Bucky related.

“Speaking of Stark…” Bucky looked around the room. “Where is everyone?”

“Oh. This close to Christmas, Clint’s holed up at the farm. Tony’s…Tony. And probably has Bruce tied to a chair in the lab.”

Bucky nodded in agreement, still happily munching away.

“And Nat was not on board with the afternoon’s festivities.”

Bucky snorted. How he didn’t choke with his mouth overfull, Steve would never figure out. Perhaps one of the undiscovered talents of a super soldier. “Sam?” he asked.

“Down in DC tying up some stuff before he officially moves up here. Guess you guys are gonna be neighbors for a while.”

A flicker of a frown passed over Bucky’s face. Steve placed a comforting hand on the shoulder closest to him and gave a small shake.  
“It’s not forever, Buck. The Tower is a good place for you right now,” he reasoned. “It’s only for a little while, and it’s more convenient for –“

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Bucky grumbled. “For my _sessions_. And for containment if I randomly snap and go on a metal arm killing spree.”

Steve sat quietly, watching his friend for further signs of unhappiness. Then the other man seemed to shake it off as soon as it had come over him.

“Anyway, let’s get this two man party started. I got no other plans and I’m sure as shit not letting you send me back to the Tower. Not in this weather. I’m all yours.” Bucky grinned impishly and waggled his eyebrows at Steve. With one last reassuring squeeze to Bucky’s arm, Steve dropped his hand and reached for the television remote.

**4.**  
_It doesn't show signs of stopping -_

The muted light coming in from the windows enveloped the room in gray. Snow clouds filled the sky, heavy and close to the ground, a billowy blanket blocking out the sun and the heavens. Even though the temperature outside was in the teens, Steve felt warm and insulated from the world. Inexplicably, Bucky’s head was resting heavily in his lap, breaths even and deep – Captain America throw pillow, anyone? – the snow was falling in continuous streams, wet and white and heavy. And Steve felt peaceful, content. Grateful. No alien invasions to deal with. No cloak and dagger-world hanging in the balance-government bullshit to navigate. No best friend turned super soldier assassin trying to kill him, let alone an army of homicidal robots led by a megalomaniac AI. That one still occasionally threw him for a loop if he thought about it too hard.

He reached down and gently cupped Bucky’s head in his palm. This man right here was why he could continue fighting when he needed to. This man right here made the nonsensical make sense (even when it truly didn’t). Bucky, _his_ Bucky, fighting his way back to him – clawing, punching, kicking, screaming to overcome the effects of Hydra’s brainwashing – was the purpose that filled Steve’s heart. What he’d once feared frozen and shattered by too much time under Arctic ice, was now alive and beating and full. Of renewed hope. Of love.

Steve slowly pulled his fingers through Bucky’s hair as he slept. He briefly wondered if Buck would ever want it short again. Steve figured there was a certain symbolism Bucky attached to the length, but he didn’t care, long or short. It was Bucky. That’s all that mattered.

**5.**  
_And I've brought some corn for popping -_

Bucky snuffled in his sleep as Steve ran his fingers through dark brown strands.

“More popcorn…” he mumbled.

Steve chuckled quietly, trying not to jostle the slumbering man. This was a good nap and he’d do just about anything to prolong it. No dreams, except maybe about popcorn?

“We ate it all. Did you bring more with you?” Steve whispered, not quite rising above the temptation to see where the sleep talk would lead.

“Hmmm?” Bucky burrowed his head further into Steve’s lap. “Mmm, yeah…s’in my back pocket,” he slurred without opening his eyes.  
Steve’s cheeks hurt from the grin that split his face from ear to ear. There was no way _anything_ would fit in the back pocket of the black skinny jeans Bucky had apparently poured himself into. 

Immediately, heat bloomed on his cheeks as that thought registered fully. His eyes roamed unbidden to the curve of Bucky’s hip encased in painted on denim, to the strip of pale flesh bookended by black below and the maroon of his sweater above…Steve’s artist eye intuitively noting the framework of dark / light / dark, startling in its contrast and subsequent beauty. Guiltily averting his gaze, Steve cleared his throat and took a deep breath hoping it was oxygen deprivation causing his sudden lightheadedness. He stilled the fingers carding through Bucky’s hair, trying also to still the rapid pounding of his heart.

“Ok then. I’ll make more when you wake up,” he promised. “Go back to sleep, baby.”

Bucky sighed and settled back in. Steve rested his head against the back of the couch, wishing he could settle as easily.

**6.**  
_The lights are turned way down low -_

**_POP! Vhoomp._**

Steve’s eyelids snapped open. He must have dozed off. The room was darker now, bathed in the last moments of twilight, save the banked glow from the fireplace. And silent, the utter lack of sound eerie. The TV was dark, as well as all the usually glowing digital displays on the assorted electronics he owned. And of course, no background noise from the heating system.

Power outage.

On his lap, Bucky rolled over. Steve abruptly froze as Bucky’s nose, Bucky’s _mouth_ , all but pressed up against his pelvis. The proximity meant he could feel the humidity of Bucky’s exhales. In a moment of supposed clarity, Steve gave thanks that he didn’t wear jeans as tight as Buck’s. And with that image zinging around his head, his body shuddered and his hands flew up to hang uselessly in the air. 

“Steve?” Bucky’s voice was sleep heavy and languid. Steve didn’t know if he was really awake or talking in his sleep again. But as Bucky curved his fingers around Steve’s hip, he wasn’t waiting to find out.

“Up. Up, up.” He frantically grabbed Bucky’s shoulders and as gently as his hormone addled brain could manage, shoved him off his lap. 

“Jesus! What the hell, Steve?” Bucky complained, shooting a slightly unfocused glare in Steve’s general direction.

Steve jumped up from the sofa. “Sorry, sorry. Power’s out. Transformer blew. Or something.” Not knowing what else to do with himself, he strode to a window under the guise of surveying the world outside. “Wow,” he breathed.

Before he knew it, Bucky was standing behind him, chin propped on Steve’s shoulder, his hand resting on Steve’s hip again. “Hmph. Probably shoulda checked the weather before I trudged my happy ass over here.”

Steve tensed, Bucky’s breath ghosting along his ear and cheek, the subtle pressure on his hip radiating throughout his body. In his periphery he saw the questioning look from those blue-gray eyes. _Shit!_ When did he start noticing the color of Bucky’s eyes? The way his jeans fit? How his hair felt sliding through Steve’s fingers? The warmth of his body against Steve’s back... This time the heat started in his chest and rose upward, wrapping itself around his neck.

“Heat,” he croaked, pushing past Bucky to the fireplace. 

**7.**  
_When we finally kiss goodnight -_

He busied himself adding another log and stoking the existing fire. When he was satisfied with the results, he rose, mumbling to himself about candles. But when he spun around to hurry off in search of them (and his equilibrium), he barreled right into Bucky.

“Jesus!” he cried. “I fucking hate when you sneak up on me like that.” Any other time he would’ve been joking. Now, well, he was a little (a lot) frazzled and overwhelmed and getting dizzier the longer he stood there. 

Apparently Bucky wanted him to pass out because he wrapped his right hand around Steve’s wrist, effectively holding him in place. Gray-blue eyes studied bright blue ones.

“What’s going on?” Bucky asked evenly.

Steve’s lips parted as he stared at his _best friend_. “You…you just…scared me, is all,” he stammered, feeling his pulse hammer away in his encircled wrist.

Bucky considered him for a moment, eyes sliding downward before rising again. He slowly released Steve’s wrist only to position their hands palm to palm and twist their fingers together.

Steve gasped quietly.

“I don’t think that’s exactly what you’re afraid of,” he breathed out. And then he pulled Steve flush against him, gaze dropping to the blond man’s mouth, lashes fluttering against his cheeks, lips raised in offering. 

Never one to back down from a challenge, Steve hesitated just a half a moment before taking that offering and pressing his mouth to Bucky’s.

**8.**  
_How I'll hate going out in the storm -_

If it hadn’t been for the intense jolt of desire suffusing his body, Steve would’ve characterized this first kiss as sweet, almost innocent. Except his thoughts, and his damn traitorous body, were anything but innocent.

He latched onto Bucky’s waist – to keep him close? to steady his shaking hands? – and pulled him impossibly closer. Bucky dragged his hand up Steve’s arm, over his shoulder, to his neck. Warm, so warm. And real. Steve had never felt more alive and anxious and unsure about anything, as Bucky’s thumb stroked his cheek and his tongue licked into Steve’s mouth.

Being that his eyes were closed, relishing in the onslaught his best friend’s mouth was waging on his own, Steve felt more than saw Bucky raise his left arm only to stop suddenly and lower it back to his side. Never disrupting the momentum of their kiss, Steve grabbed the metal hand and placed it against his cheek. Bucky flinched involuntarily, a small sound of dissent coming from the back of his throat, but Steve kept his hand over the metal and wouldn’t let Bucky pull it away.

Breaking the kiss because, between the lack of oxygen and the blood rushing southward through his veins, Steve feared he might literally keel over at any second, he nudged his forehead against Bucky’s.

“Well, that escalated quickly,” he panted.

Bucky smirked then pulled back, all humor gone. His eyes were guarded as they met Steve’s, his hands on either side of Steve’s face tightening.

“I’m sorry. I’ll go if you want me to. I... I don’t want to…but I will.” His voice cracked on the last word and he took a fortifying breath before continuing. “I just…I couldn’t pretend anymore.”

**9.**  
_But if you'll really hold me tight -_

Steve’s eyes widened at the admission. “Buck…?”

Bucky tore his eyes away from Steve’s, focusing on something over Steve’s left shoulder.

“Hey.” Steve moved into his line of sight. “Talk to me. What does that mean?”

Looking as if he might be in physical pain, Bucky sighed heavily, his posture deflating as the air left his lungs.

“Stevie.” He paused, visibly struggling with the answer. Finally he said, “Forever. As long as I can remember.”

In that moment, Steve Rogers, Super Soldier, Captain Fucking America, could’ve been knocked over with a feather. He let go of Bucky and took a step back. 

Bucky sank onto the arm of the sofa, hair falling around his bowed head.

“Forever…?” And Steve wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement or, wow. Just wow. He dragged a hand down his face and turned to the side. The silence was oppressive even though some part of him still registered the popping and crackling of the logs in the fireplace. And damn, it was suddenly about 10 degrees warmer in the room. Afterglow? He let that rattle around in his head for a few seconds before facing Bucky again.

“You never said – “

Eyes flashing defensively and shoulders thrown back, “I couldn’t! You know I couldn’t.”

“We were best friends!” Steve shouted, voice carrying through the stillness of the apartment. “You knew everything about me! You were –“ He stopped, backpedaled, “ _Are_ my everything!” 

Bucky peered up him plaintively, shrouded in resolute despair. “And I would’ve lost _my_ everything if I’d said.”

Steve fell to his knees in front of Bucky and grabbed his arms. “Did you really think so little of me?”

For the second time in the evening, Bucky flinched, as if Steve had struck him across the face. It took a moment for the shock to wear off and Bucky to find his voice again. “No. Fuck no. Steve, I couldn’t. I couldn’t put that on you. Burden you with it. It was wrong, it was…God, it was illegal!”

Steve shrunk back, let his hands fall to his thighs. “Were there…” He cleared his throat and started again. “Was there anyone else?”

The light from the fire was enough to see the regret, the shame and self-loathing, wash over Bucky’s face. The pain Steve felt in that moment was worse than the physical blows rained down on him by the Winter Soldier. He hadn’t meant to make Bucky feel those things about himself. Feel those things about how he felt about Steve. Had always felt about Steve. He could only think of one thing to do. He pulled Bucky from the couch to straddle his lap and wrapped his arms around him, held him in place and stroked his hair.

“Ahh, Buck, I’m sorry,” Steve whispered, lips grazing Bucky’s ear and causing him to shiver. “I’m so sorry. That I didn’t know – “

Bucky tried to pull away in protest but Steve only held him more tightly.

“Shhh. You’re stepping on my moment.” He pressed a kiss to Bucky’s temple. That must have flipped a switch since Bucky’s arms finally encircled Steve’s torso. Stubborn ass, Steve thought briefly before continuing. “I didn’t mean to make you feel ashamed. I would never…. I was shocked, is all. That all that time we were together, and I never knew. And to just find out now, when you’ve been back all these months. It just seems like such a waste.”

This time Bucky managed to break free of Steve’s arms. Eyes wide and wary, he growled, “What the fuck, Rogers?”

**10.**  
_All the way home I'll be warm -_

Steve’s smile, though small, was absolutely devilish. “You really don’t get it, do you? You’re kind of dumb sometimes.”

Bucky squinted, trying to take measure of what was going on in that pea sized brain of Steve’s. “I learned from the best,” he retorted.

Steve snorted, face breaking into a dopey grin full of perfect teeth. Not his best comeback, but Steve had no doubts Bucky would make up for it at some point.

Reaching up, he carefully tucked Bucky’s hair behind his ears on both sides then caressed those prominent cheekbones, letting his eyes travel across the landscape of that oh so familiar face. It occurred to him how incredibly handsome and downright sexy Buck was. Steve had always thought so, but had only acknowledged it as a given, as a universal tenet of space and time.

“Steve…?” Bucky asked nervously. And then he was swallowed up by the bluest eyes he’d ever seen, face cradled by the strongest, most capable hands he’d ever known. Sitting in the lap of the bravest, truest man he’d ever met.

“Buck, I love you. I always have, regardless of the type of relationship we have, or haven’t, had.” Steve shrugged. “I always will. That’s never going to change,” he vowed.

Bucky crushed his mouth to Steve’s and pushed his tongue inside. Which was pretty much the reaction Steve was hoping for. And then the grinding started and the wandering hands under soft sweaters, reaching for smooth skin, gliding over supple muscle.

At some point they cast their sweaters aside in favor of skin to skin contact. Bucky’s teeth nipped at Steve’s jaw before sucking a wet, open mouth trail down his neck. And when Bucky flicked his tongue against Steve’s nipple, his body snapped taut and the dirtiest moan rumbled out from his chest. Until Bucky used his teeth. And honestly, Steve didn’t even know he could make those noises.

Bucky broke away from his exploration of Steve pecs, to grab a quilt from the back of the couch. “Here,” he shoved it at Steve. “I…can’t…stop…kissing you,” he panted.

At least he could form semi-coherent sentences. Steve was fairly certain his brain shorted out the first time Bucky licked his nipple. Not that he was complaining, it just took him a little extra time to realize what Bucky wanted him to do with the quilt. He inelegantly twisted and turned trying to get the quilt spread out in front of the fireplace while Bucky laid siege to the smooth planes of his neck and back with his hands and mouth.

“Buck…Buck….” He fumbled with the uncooperative quilt, growing more frustrated by the second.

“It’s fine, Rogers. It’s good. Fuckin’ perfectionist. Not a compliment, by the way.”

And then Steve was on his back, and Buck was laid out on top of him, chest to chest, groin to groin, capturing Steve’s mouth again. His hands were on the button of Steve’s jeans, popping it free, dragging the zipper down, Steve’s hips thrusting up at the friction.

“Let me,” he mumbled against Steve’s lips. “I want to.” 

Steve nodded and threw his head back as Bucky licked and kissed and sucked his way down Steve’s body. When he got to Steve’s navel, Bucky grabbed Steve’s jeans and underwear and yanked them over his hips and down his legs.

Kneeling between Steve’s legs, Bucky gazed reverently at him. “Stevie,” he breathed, catching his eyes. “Goddamn, you’re gorgeous.”

Steve felt his entire body warm with the compliment, which also had the side effect of making his very hard cock twitch. “You’ve seen me before,” he croaked.

Bucky smiled wistfully. “Not really. There were times…but I couldn’t let myself look. Wouldn’t let myself look. Not for too long anyway. I mean, after Azzano,” he trailed off and Steve quirked a brow at him. “Well, I tried really hard to avoid certain situations. And when I couldn’t, well, let’s just say I had a lot of material to jerk off to.” Bucky’s smile turned sheepish.

Steve groaned as his eyes rolled back into his head. Bucky hadn’t even touched him yet, not really, and this is how he reacted? No wonder the entire world thought he was a virgin.

Finding Bucky’s hand, Steve tugged him forward. “Stop talking,” he commanded. “And take those fucking jeans off before I cut them off you.”

Bucky grinned. “Yes, sir, Captain.”

Steve cried out the moment Bucky’s mouth enveloped his cock. He would’ve been embarrassed at the noises Bucky wrenched out of him if he had the cognitive ability to give a damn. When Bucky lightly scraped his teeth underneath the crown and over the head, Steve actually whined through gritted teeth. He sank his hand into Bucky’s hair and held on, tightly. Maybe too tightly if Bucky’s hand gripping his wrist was any indication. But as he swallowed him down to the root, Bucky hummed around his length. He fucking hummed and Steve lost it. No warning as he came in Bucky’s mouth, which he felt somewhat guilty about until Bucky licked up the underside of his dick to tongue the slit, then grinned at him like the cat who ate the canary.

“I knew you’d taste fucking delicious.”

Steve clamped a hand over his eyes and swore he felt himself getting hard again already. “You are going to kill me, James Buchanan Barnes,” he groaned, half embarrassed, half bewildered. “And then when they find my cold, dead body, for the second time,” he added for impact, “it will be up to you to explain Captain America’s cause of death to the world.”

Steve could feel Bucky’s grin against the skin of his abdomen, as he used his tongue to retrace his earlier path over Steve’s body, this time in reverse. He bit Steve’s chin, earning him a quiet hiss, then pulled Steve’s hand away from his eyes.

“So, I take it that means you liked it?”

Steve laughed, his entire body shaking with mirth. Which only made certain parts of his anatomy rub up against certain parts of Bucky’s anatomy. Which also served as a reminder that some reciprocation was in order.

“Jerk,” he whispered, pupils dilating as he stared into his lover’s eyes.

“Punk,” Bucky sighed dreamily, kissing the corner of Steve’s mouth.

**11.**  
_The fire is slowly dying -_

“It’s kinda chilly in here, doncha think? Maybe I should put another log on the fire.” Bucky made like he was going to get up but Steve tightened his arms around him, keeping him in place. He kissed him soundly just to discourage him from any more not so bright ideas.

“We’re not finished yet,” he said against Bucky’s lips.

“No?” Bucky joked.

“No.” Steve rolled his hips, sliding his hardness against Bucky’s cock.

**12.**  
_And my dear, we're still goodbying -_

“Tell me what to do,” he said against Bucky’s neck. 

Bucky lowered his head to rest against Steve’s. “Stevie, you don’t have to. I’m good. I’m more than good. I’m fucking fantastic.”

Steve ran a hand along Bucky’s back, gliding it over the swell of his ass cheek before giving a little squeeze. It was his turn to be rewarded with a broken moan. He pushed Bucky’s head back so he could see his face. Those fucked out eyes, almost black with lust, the slack mouth that had only minutes ago done some terribly wonderful and amazing things to his body.

He touched a thumb to Bucky’s lip, pulling it out and down a little, cataloging how it made Bucky’s lashes flutter against his cheeks. Filing the action/response away to be revisited later.

When he had Bucky’s attention again, Steve told him, “I want to make you feel good. Not just because you made me feel good.” Bucky rolled his eyes. Asshole. “Feel _great_ ,” Steve amended. “I need you to know how I feel. About you, about us. Actions speak louder than words, right? It’s not enough for me to just tell you. I want to know that you believe me too.”

Bucky considered Steve’s words, letting his fingers play idly in golden blond hair. Making his decision, he bent down and gently sucked Steve’s upper lip between his teeth. He flicked his tongue against the soft, wet flesh on the inside, sending a jolt of pleasure through Steve’s body and his eyes back in his head.

“Ungh,” Steve managed before Bucky propped himself up using his left arm. He rested on his knees hovering over Steve. 

Steve’s eyes flew open as air rushed between them, but then Bucky took his hand and guided it to his straining erection. He hissed and bit his lip as Steve took a hold of him. “Just do…do what _you_ …like,” he grated. 

Tightening his grip with more confidence, Steve jerked his hand up and down Bucky’s length, rubbing his thumb against the frenulum with every couple of passes, then swirling it through the pre-come leaking from the head.

“Ohhh,” Bucky cried, eyes squeezed shut, muscles quivering. “God….”

Steve brushed the knuckles of his free hand across Bucky’s cheek, watching him slowly fall apart above him. Amazed that it was his touch on Bucky, bringing him so much pleasure. He couldn’t imagine a time in the future when he wouldn’t want to see this – Bucky’s magnificent body so taut, straining toward that peak where he could finally let go. And Steve being the one to get him there. So much power and trust shared, yet so fragile. Steve promised himself, and would eventually swear to Bucky, he would never abuse it or take it for granted.

“Steve,” Bucky whimpered, eyes open, heart vulnerable. “I’m so close.”

Steve licked his lips. “What do you need, baby? Tell me, I’ll do it.”

“Don’t –“ he stuttered, sucking in a huge gulp of air. “Don’t…stop.”

Bucky’s mouth went slack then his head dropped forward before he cried out. Steve felt the warm wetness of Bucky’s come splashing against his abdomen. It was the most erotic feeling he’d ever experienced in his crazy, fucked up, too long life. He propped himself up so he could kiss Bucky’s forehead, his cheeks, his eyelids, his mouth.

“Dammit, Rogers, give a man a chance to catch his breath, will ya?”

Steve snickered and with his hand still around Bucky’s dick, dragged the head through the milky pool of semen slowly trickling down his abdomen.

Bucky’s head snapped up. Steve quirked an eyebrow at him.

“I always suspected there was a kinky bastard somewhere underneath all that red, white, and blue.” Bucky shook his head in awe before stealing a quick kiss from his best friend in the entire fucking world.

**13.**  
_As long as you love me so -_

They were lying on the floor in front of the glowing fire. The power was still out, might be until morning at this rate. But Bucky’s head was resting on Steve’s left arm and his right arm and fingers were pinned possessively against Bucky’s chest. Pretty slim chance Buck was going to relinquish his hold anytime soon.

Steve pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Are you warm enough?”

Bucky burrowed back against Steve’s chest even further. 

Breath catching in his lungs, Steve grunted. “Keep doing that and pretty soon it will be too hot in here.”

And because Bucky is a little shit and a colossal asshole, he squirmed again, pushing his backside even closer to Steve’s groin.

“God, you’re an ass,” Steve complained with no conviction.

“I’ll show you my ass,” Bucky threatened, voice husky and really, not threatening at all. Kinda more hopeful sounding, Steve thought to himself.

They were quiet for a few minutes, staring at the flames of the fire, snuggled together on a quilt that didn’t do much to soften the hardness of the wood floor beneath them. Steve’s nose buried in the hair at the back of Bucky’s head, occasionally breathing in his scent, more assured every minute that he could stay like this forever.

“Did you mean it?” Bucky suddenly asked in a smaller voice than Steve had ever heard come out of that gorgeous body.

He kissed the nape of Bucky’s neck, because it was there and he could. “Did I mean what?”

Bucky sighed, shoulders tensing slightly. “What you said before,” he paused, tilting his head to indicate the quilt, “about how you feel. About me. Us…This.”

“Buck, look at me.” Steve helped him roll over so they were facing each other. He pushed the long dark strands of hair away from Bucky’s face giving him an unobstructed view of those wary blue-gray eyes. “I meant it. I’ve always loved you in one capacity or another. And I can’t tell you when it happened because I wasn’t looking for it to change. But now that I think back over the past few months, I can see little things here and there. Things I took more notice of, when I never had before. Like you in skinny jeans.”

Bucky’s mouth twitched.

“I don’t know how you do it. Can you even breathe in those things?”

Bucky’s eyes sparkled mischievously. 

Steve groaned. “You wore them on purpose, didn’t you?” He should’ve known.

“Maybe,” Bucky confessed. “I mean, I like them. My ass does look hella good in them. Coulda been part of my master plan.” He shrugged his beautifully scarred shoulder nonchalantly.

Steve pinched him playfully then soothed the spot with gentle fingertips. Serious again, he continued with his list. “The color of your eyes.” He smoothed his thumb across a dark eyebrow. “Of course, I’ve always known, but it wasn’t something I really thought about until recently. And I guess I just attributed it to being so happy to get my best friend back that I was going to burn every little detail about him into my mind.”

Bucky traced a finger along Steve’s jaw. “You’re not going to lose me again,” he promised.

His answering smile just a little bit sad, Steve kissed Bucky’s forehead. “You don’t know that.” Before Bucky could utter a syllable of protest Steve placed a silencing finger over his lips. “I’m not saying that to be maudlin. But stranger things have happened. It’s the world we live in. It’s our, my, reality.” He rubbed his fingertips along the ends of Bucky’s hair. “I don’t need you to be James Barnes. I loved him…but I wasn’t in love with him.” He took Bucky’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I’m in love with you. And it was so damn natural, I didn’t even know it until you kissed me earlier. So if you want me, I’m yours for the taking.”

Bucky surged forward, smashing his mouth against Steve’s, palm possessive against the nape of his neck. “I – “ Kiss. “Love – “ Kiss. “You.“ Kiss. “Never stopped.”

Steve grinned and tangled their legs together. “One more thing. When you’re cleared…” he hesitated briefly, cautious hope a brightening sunburst within him, “I want you to move in here. With me. Us, together. Home. If that’s what you want.”

Bucky ducked his head under Steve’s chin. He kissed the hollow of Steve’s throat and mouthed against his skin. “Yes.”

Steve fought back the emotion rising in his throat, the sunburst expanding and exploding into thousands of radiant fireworks. “Good,” he managed. “Trial run. Tonight because it’s really coming down out there and it doesn’t show signs of stopping.”

Bucky nuzzled Steve’s collarbone. “Let it snow,” he whispered, his heart thumping steadily against Steve’s chest. “Let it snow.”


End file.
